


Make Believe

by cresselia8themoon



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Drake Lp Fenton are too sweet for this world, Gen, Strangulation tw, Torture tw, i really like jim starling in case you couldn't tell, nothing too graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 01:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18955009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresselia8themoon/pseuds/cresselia8themoon
Summary: When actors from Darkwing Duck go missing, Drake Mallard and Launchpad are beyond ecstatic to finally have a case that doesn’t just involve stopping a Beagle Boy from purse-snatching. But hero work always leads to a dangerous truth.





	Make Believe

**Author's Note:**

> Took me all week but I finally finished this! This is the longest oneshot I have ever written in my life XD

Drake Mallard flopped onto his bed with a splitting headache. He’d spent two hours on a stakeout and the only action he had was just another Beagle Boy purse-snatching. That old lady should’ve been grateful, but she screamed about killer shadows returning and smacked him in the head with her purse. 

He groaned and reached for a bottle of painkillers. Seriously, what did she keep in that thing anyway? 

Rocks, bricks, and medieval torture devices? 

He’d only taken up the mantle a few weeks ago. Drake knew he shouldn’t expect results right away, but he figured there would at least be a journalist or two seeking a new and fresh story. 

He was still an unknown figure in Duckburg, so he had to brainstorm ways to boost his public image. Business transactions at McDuck Enterprises, failed revenge schemes at Glomgold Industries, and Gizmoduck dominated the local Duckburg news. He needed to take a case that would supersede all three of those things, something that would circulate through the major networks and social media alike for weeks. 

Roxanne Featherly criticized everybody she reported on, but Drake was willing to tackle negative publicity. If he could prove his own bullies wrong as a duckling, he could certainly shatter expectations all over again. 

And maybe, just maybe, he could inspire a kid to triumph against the world. 

He could be a hero. 

A sudden rumble shook the foundations of his apartment, and Drake instantly went on alert. 

“Who’s there?” he called, throwing open the door to his bedroom. “I’ll have you know, I was top of the class in Quack Fu! Beware my fists of fury, thieve!” 

But the living room only contained a couch, a TV, a table, the front half of a limousine sticking out of the wall-

“If you’re trying to kidnap me, you’re doing a very poor job! And I definitely don’t appreciate your pitiful attempt at redecoration!” Drake shouted, his fists raised in a basic defensive position. 

“AH! THERE’S A KIDNAPPER IN HERE?” someone screeched. 

“Aha! So you admit your motive!” Drake exclaimed triumphantly. In the darkness, he could only make out vague shapes. But there was a tall, muscular  _someone_ in front of him _._  That was an undeniable fact.  

“Have at you, fiend!” Drake yelled, rushing at the tall, blobby shape and knocking it down. He drew his fist back, but his attacker’s hat fell off, revealing bright red hair that no darkness could ever hide. 

“THE KIDNAPPER’S GOT ME! HE’S GONNA SACRIFICE ME TO THE MOLE MONSTERS!” 

“Wait, Launchpad?” Drake asked, lowering his fist. He knew that voice. He never would’ve tried the hero gig for real without it. 

“HE KNOWS MY NAME! NOW HE CAN MIND CONTROL ME WITH A MAGICAL AMULET!” 

Drake scrambled off Launchpad and turned on the lights. “Launchpad, we’re the only ones in here. There’s no kidnapper.” 

Launchpad sat up, scratching his head as he surveyed the living room, his eyes falling on the damaged wall and limo. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “Oops, guess I’d better let Mr. McDee know about this. He’s not gonna like it though...so, how are you?” 

He popped the question like they just randomly saw each other in the grocery store. 

“Disregarding the whole kidnapping and crashed limo thing? I’ve been better, I guess,” Drake shrugged. “Mostly I was just hoping I could stop something bigger than a Beagle Boy purse-snatching.” 

“Stopping a theft is good,” Launchpad said earnestly. “Stealing is wrong.” 

Drake knew Launchpad was right, though sometimes the childlike honesty was a little uncomfortable. 

“I saved the purse without too much trouble, but I was smacked in the head by its owner,” Drake said. 

“Gee, that’s too bad,” Launchpad winced. “It hurts just thinking about it.” 

“Yup,” Drake sighed. He turned on the TV, quickly flipping to the news when the screen displayed a rerun of Darkwing Duck. 

Launchpad didn’t protest or comment on the switch. The circumstances under Jim Starling’s disappearance were too fresh on their minds. Through some unspoken agreement, they refused to consider the possibility of their idol’s death. 

Jim Starling. 

Drake didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. On one hand, Starling saved their lives. But on the other, Drake and Launchpad’s lives wouldn’t have needed saving if Starling hadn’t set the studio ablaze with his jealousy-induced rage. 

Drake thought he’d honored Starling by accepting the role in Boorswan’s rather...unique vision. 

But Starling just considered him a knock-off replacement. 

“Hey, Launchpad,” Drake said quietly. Launchpad’s gaze tore away from a clip of Gizmoduck accidentally beaning Roxanne Featherly with a lemon meringue pie during an interview. “You told me to honor Jim by taking up Darkwing Duck. How do you know I’m just not replacing him?”

“Cause you aren’t,” Launchpad insisted. “Let’s say you and Jim are both pilots instead of actors and you’re both working under this really important guy. Then Jim goes missing for a decade and during that time the important guy hires you to pilot him around. Then Jim comes back, you wanna meet him, then he yells in your face in a houseboat and storms off. Get the picture?”

Drake forced a smile. “Uh, yeah! Oddly specific analogies really help me get the picture. Thanks.”

Launchpad clapped him on the back so hard that Drake nearly fell off the couch. “No problemo,” he said, his attention returning to the TV. “Huh, they got a missing person case going on.” 

Drake leapt to his feet. “A missing person case?” he exclaimed, suddenly feeling wide awake. He quickly turned up the volume. 

“- _actor-turned_ - _salesman Jack Russell has been reported missing. He was last seen walking by the water cooler factory in the industrial district. The investigation is still pending.”_

A picture of Jack Russell flashed onscreen. The dog’s hair and muzzle had long turned gray, but there was no mistaking those long, floppy ears and enormous nose. 

“Is that-” Drake gasped. 

“The actor who used his background as a salesman to deliver rapid-fire marketing-based threats as the Liquidator!” Launchpad exclaimed. “Man, that’s too bad. Vanished into thin air like Jim.” 

“Like Jim,” Drake agreed. “You don’t suppose there could be a-” 

“-suspicious connection behind the disappearances!” Launchpad and Drake finished together. 

“Now that we’ve established that particular possibility, let’s head to the industrial district, partner!” Drake exclaimed. 

“Partner?” Launchpad gasped. He bounced up and down uncontrollably. 

“Sidekick doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Drake admitted. “You get the limo outta the wall, I’ll get into my costume, and together we’ll solve this mystifying mystery perpetuated by the machinations of the malicious criminal mind!” 

Launchpad’s jaw dropped open. “You’re really good at that alliteration thing!” 

Drake grinned as he disappeared into his bedroom. “Don’t wanna boast, but I was one of the best drama students in my school!” he called over his shoulder as he donned his Darkwing Duck costume for the second time that night. 

* * *

“Duckburg. A peaceful, quiet night. The moon and stars shine over the empty streets, not a soul to be seen. Yet not all are slumbering peacefully in their homes, for villains lurk somewhere in the shadows. For he is the terror that flaps in the night, the typo in the villain’s manifesto, he is Darkwing Duck!” 

The limo swerved to the side, the front bumper clipping a stop sign. Darkwing yelped and grabbed the seat with both hands, wishing he hadn’t ignored his agent’s suggestion of creating a will. 

“Great monologue!” Launchpad said, still applauding. 

“Uh, Launchpad...if you don’t mind, WE ARE ABOUT TO CRASH INTO THE BRIDGE!” 

Darkwing covered his eyes in preparation for the inevitable.

“Love the dramatic flair, especially when you say-oh no, the bridge!” 

Darkwing smacked his bill against the glove compartment as the limo’s front slammed against the concrete support beam of the bridge. His seat belt was the only thing that saved him from being flung out the window. 

Shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness, Darkwing grappled for the door latch and stumbled out, clinging to a telephone pole for support while his heart rate slowed to a less dangerous hypertensive level. 

“Oops,” Launchpad grinned sheepishly. “At least we’re at the factory now. So are you going to use your superior sleuthing abilities to catch the crook?” 

Finally recovering from his near-death experience, Darkwing straightened up. “There’s no guarantee we’ll catch the crook now, partner. But there could be some kind of clue. Signs of a struggle, a form of identification, something.” 

Launchpad tsked. “It’ll be awful hard to find a clue with all this litter lying around.” He scooped up an armful of discarded advertisements. “There a trash can around here?” 

Something small and rectangular slid out of Launchpad’s arms, landing face-up at Darkwing’s feet. A duck’s head was emblazoned across what Darkwing initially assumed to be a business card. 

But business cards didn’t normally depict masked, malicious-looking ducks. Darkwing scrutinized the card, even using a magnifying glass in case the words were written in very fine, small print. But there was no name, no address, no telephone number. 

There was nothing written on the back either. 

“Launchpad, we found a calling card,” Darkwing said as the taller duck returned from dumping the advertisements into a trash can. “I have a theory that it was purposely planted by the perpetrator.” 

Launchpad only looked at the card for ten seconds before pulling away, his shoulders hunched and his eyes uneasy. “He looks kinda like you.” 

“Well, I can see it in the beak and face, but my hat is way more stylish. Who wants to go around wearing a ragged stop sign on their heads?” Darkwing said, deliberately turning the card face-down. 

He didn’t want to look at the card for longer than necessary. Something about that smile with sharp, yellowed teeth made him nervous. He ran a hand through his cheek feathers, praying they weren’t as ragged as the picture on the card. 

“You alright, DW?” Launchpad asked. 

“I’m fine. This lead is a bust though. We should find a-wait, DW?” Darkwing asked, the nickname halting millions of questions that were currently running through his head. 

Launchpad nodded. “I want to call you something too. I mean, I know the show usually called him ‘the Darkwing’ or ‘the Masked Mallard’ or something but I can come up with something else if you want. I got it! I’ll call you the Purple Pimperbill!” 

DW didn’t have a bad ring to it. But mostly he wasn’t keen on being saddled with the second suggestion. 

“DW sounds great, LP,” Darkwing said. 

“Darkwing Duck gave me a nickname,” Launchpad breathed, collapsing in a dead faint. 

While waiting for Launchpad to wake up, Darkwing flicked through the local news on his phone. 

So far, the police had discovered nothing. It seemed like everyone was banking on Gizmoduck to rescue Jack Russell. Well, almost everyone. Roxanne Featherly was adamant that the police could handle it and Gizmoduck should keep his oversized wheel out of the way. 

For once, Darkwing was inclined to agree with her. Gizmoduck just didn’t seem like the investigating type to him. 

Another headline popped up. 

_BREAKING NEWS: ESTEEMED UNIVERSITY OF DUCKBURG PROFESSOR DR. TINO CHICKPEA KIDNAPPED IN BIOLOGY LAB. CLICK TO SEE SECURITY FOOTAGE._

Tino Chickpea. Bushroot’s actor, Darkwing recalled. His love for plants wasn’t just a trait made up by the show.

Launchpad coughed, finally coming back to the conscious world.

“Glad to see you awake,” Darkwing said, practically shoving his phone in Launchpad’s face. “We have a video lead now! Whoever our kidnapper is, he’s not smart enough to avoid getting caught on camera!”

He played the video.

The security feed didn’t have audio, but Darkwing could practically hear Dr. Chickpea gently encourage his budding sunflowers. As the professor measured water in a beaker, shards of glass scattered across the floor. A caped figure stalked towards Dr. Chickpea, who didn’t appear to notice the intruder until the very last second. His beak went wide, but the intruder knocked him out with a single blow to the head.

Launchpad rubbed his own head as if he could feel the migraine that sort of attack would inevitably cause.

The intruder slung Dr. Chickpea over his shoulder like a dead weight, then lingered by the desk for several seconds as he removed something from his pocket and shut it inside a drawer. 

With a flourish of his black cape, the intruder faced the security camera. 

Black mask. Ragged, crimson hat. Messy feathers. 

Darkwing compared the face on the card to the criminal in the video. It was a perfect match.  

The intruder laughed directly into the security camera lens. Though Darkwing couldn’t hear it, he was pretty sure living bodies weren’t supposed to contort like that. 

Finally, the intruder sauntered offscreen with Dr. Chickpea in tow. 

The video was over. 

“He left the calling card here, Launchpad,” Darkwing said, pushing down the uneasy feeling in his stomach. “And deliberately planted evidence among Dr. Chickpea’s beloved plants.” 

“I thought he put it in a drawer,” Launchpad said. 

“They’re in the same room. It still counts,” Darkwing replied. He struck a heroic, confident pose to rid himself of his previous misgivings. A kidnapper that had successfully nabbed two former Darkwing Duck actors was running rampant and needed to be stopped after all. “We should get to that bio lab. To the limo, partner! We’re going to the University of Duckburg!” 

“Alright! I haven’t been to that place since I accidentally crashed the Sunchaser into the field by the Fine Arts building!” Launchpad exclaimed. 

* * *

It normally took half an hour to reach the university from the industrial district, but Launchpad’s driving shortened the journey by fifteen minutes. Though Darkwing held a great preference to not bumping into curbs with every turn of the wheel, he had to admit that Launchpad saved plenty of time. 

As Launchpad pulled into an alley to avoid parking next to the police cars surrounding the street in front of the university, Darkwing searched for a layout of the campus online. He found a color-coded map that would suit their purposes tonight. 

Much to his surprise, the biology building wasn’t far from the giant archway in front of them that marked the university’s entrance. That would greatly simplify the investigation. 

Now it was just a matter of sneaking past the police officers. 

“Here’s the plan, LP,” Darkwing said, snapping his fingers in front of Launchpad’s face when his expression glazed over from the nickname. “We’ll work on your fainting habit after this case is wrapped up, but our main priority is getting past those officers.” 

“Or we could just ask them for information,” Launchpad said. 

Darkwing shook his head. “While that would be our simplest option, I’m not a recognizable public figure yet. They’d probably just mistake us for costumed partygoers.” 

“Too bad you’re not Gizmoduck levels of recognizable yet, huh?” Launchpad asked. 

“And what does that mechanical menace have that I don’t?” Darkwing muttered, painfully aware of how Gizmoduck content had a tendency to circulate around social media. Sure, most of the videos consisted of suit malfunctions, but the recognition levels were the part that counted. 

Launchpad pointed to the university. “The police’s attention for one thing.”

“Huh?” Darkwing peeked out of the alley, concealing his beak with his cape so the bright color didn’t give away their hiding place. 

Sure, Gizmoduck was the self-proclaimed superhero of Duckburg and finding a kidnapper naturally came with the territory, but that didn’t mean Darkwing was pleased to see him. The mechanical menace’s beak flapped multiple times as if he was speaking a mile a minute. Several of the officers held pens and paper out, which Gizmoduck quickly signed before trying to get back on topic. 

One of the officers pinched the edge of Gizmoduck’s beak and gently shook it, much to his embarrassment. 

Darkwing didn’t like Gizmoduck, but he knew this was their best opportunity to sneak past the officers. 

And seeing Gizmoduck being treated like a little boy was comedy gold. Too bad his phone camera didn’t capture videos from this distance. 

Darkwing and Launchpad crept out of the alley, ducking behind a police car for cover. 

“M’maaa...ma’am I must ask that you focus on the question please,” Gizmoduck declared. “Did the kidnapper leave any fingerprints or other forms of evidence behind?”

“Are you sure you aren’t wearing yourself thin?” a brown-feathered officer asked. She looked torn between wanting to hug Gizmoduck and maintaining a certain professional distance. 

“He doesn’t look good,” Launchpad whispered. 

“How can you tell? You can’t even see his expression,” Darkwing said. 

Launchpad shrugged. “He’s been busy lately. Hasn’t been around his lab much either.”

Darkwing blinked at him. Launchpad was more well-connected than he realized. 

“As fascinating as Gizmoduck’s personal life is, we should really be going,” Darkwing said. 

After a quick check to make sure Gizmoduck and the officers hadn’t spotted them, Darkwing and Launchpad made their way across the street and ducked behind a thick bush before finally sprinting to the archway, where a support column blocked them from the officers’ line of sight. 

“Oh man, that was awesome!” Launchpad exclaimed. “Only thing we need is a musical accompaniment!” 

“Smooth jazz on saxophone would’ve been so perfect,” Darkwing said. “I’m definitely the saxophone type. Smooth, classy, magnetic.” 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Launchpad said. “What kind of instrument do you think I’d have?” 

Darkwing thought for a moment. “Cymbals. Or some kind of percussion. I don’t know, cymbals crash, you crash, I think it fits.” 

“We should put wheels on cymbals,” Launchpad mused. “Then you’d get twice the crashiness.” 

They headed to the biology building, which had a helpful ‘Biology Hall’ label attached to the doorway. Darkwing stopped Launchpad before he could enter.

“Let’s look around the perimeter first,” Darkwing said. “There was shattered glass in that security footage, so there’s likely a broken window used as a point of entry.” 

Launchpad nodded. “Exactly like the thirtieth episode!” 

“Yes, precisely,” Darkwing agreed. “And once we’ve located the broken window, it’s a simple matter of finding whatever the kidnapper left behind!” 

“Let’s do this!” Launchpad exclaimed as they rounded the corner. 

“That’s the spirit!” Darkwing shouted. 

Turned out there were a lot of broken windows. 

* * *

“Maybe I should look into the next few labs,” Launchpad said. “Your feet aren’t looking so good.”

Launchpad’s feet were covered so the glass shards didn’t affect him much, but Darkwing wished he had the foresight to bring boots along.

“Working through the pain!” Darkwing grunted, though every step felt like a million pins were digging deeply into his lacerated feet. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be fine. Boost me into that window on the end! I have a feeling this could be it!” 

Launchpad bent over, allowing Darkwing to climb onto his back and reach the last window. The glass had been entirely knocked out of the pane, the sparkling shards scattered all over the lab. Darkwing pushed off the wall with his hands, heaving his lower body through the window. 

Darkwing dusted himself off, then helped Launchpad through the window. 

“Whoa,” Launchpad said in awe. “Tino Chickpea sure loved his plants.” 

It looked as though the professor had turned his lab into a miniature greenhouse. Shrubs and saplings lined the entire back wall, while flowerpots rested on the tables. The cabinets were full of fertilizer, seeds, and water. 

The artificial sunlight lamps hanging above the flora made it possible to see without the use of a flashlight. 

Darkwing avoided the shards as best he could, though he was pretty sure the smaller crystals were still burrowing their way into his foot. There was a desk in the middle of the room, directly in the line of the security camera. A sink had been built into it, the kind that students normally used in science labs. 

A shattered beaker laid on the floor, the glass surrounded by a puddle of water. 

“Aha! So this is the lab where Dr. Chickpea was unceremoniously abducted by our avaricious avian,” Darkwing said, heading straight to the drawer where the kidnapper had purposely left something behind. 

The middle drawer contained a black recording device. 

They were trying to leave a message. 

“That’s weird. I thought criminals wanted to get away with their misdeeds,” Launchpad said. 

“So did I,” Darkwing admitted. 

Instead of keeping his kidnappings under the radar, it seemed as though the masked villain enjoyed being in the open. 

Darkwing hit the play button, hoping the tape would explain some sort of motive behind the kidnappings. 

A guttural sound came out of the recording device, followed by harsh, gravelly laughter. Darkwing tried to turn the volume down, but the laughter only seemed to get louder. 

_“I am the screeching fingernail on the chalkboard of justice! I am the devastating blight on the potato field of peace and goodwill! I AM NEGADUCK!”_

Darkwing and Launchpad backed up from the recording device as if it had been possessed by the devil himself. 

The voice spat out every good value as if they were nothing more than a disgusting, grimy stain in a twisted perversion of Darkwing Duck’s triumphant introduction.

 _“Hello, Dipwing Dork. We haven’t been properly introduced, have we?”_ the voice crooned, every word oozing like deadly, acidic honey. “ _But I’ve been watching you, and you think you’re oh-so-noble letting my...no, your lackey feel like he’s helping. Newsflash, dimwit. He belongs to me. You stole him. I’ll take him from you. I’ll take everything from you that you stole from me!_ ”

“I didn’t steal anything from this...Negaduck guy,” Darkwing said, picking up the recording device. He’d heard enough. He prepared to throw it out the window, but a tingle ran up his arm and evolved into a painful shock that made him drop the device on his foot. 

_“Nuh-uh-uh. I’m not finished yet. Just one last order of business. I have two actors. You may have noticed something they share in common. And like any collector, I’m not satisfied until I have them all. Maybe I can even score a few...exclusives. Oh, I believe I mentioned this device was set to self-destruct once the recording’s done?”_

Launchpad barely managed to grab Drake and take cover behind the desk in time as the device exploded, creating a huge hole where the window used to be. Thankfully, Dr. Chickpea’s plants were unscathed. 

“I’ve never heard of him,” Launchpad said. 

And Launchpad regularly associated with a family who faced down practically every type of villain in existence. 

“A newcomer to the scene then,” Darkwing said, struggling to his feet. The pain was flaring up again, but he ignored it. “Jack Russell and Tino Chickpea played two members of the Fearsome Four. Negaduck’s going after the last two. We have no choice but to emerge victorious against this vile villain.” 

“Dan Rattigan and Michael Bill,” Launchpad supplied. “The actors for Megavolt and Quackerjack. They run a toy store downtown. Been there a few times with the triplets. They’re a big help when I faint in there.” 

“Given the current time, it’s more likely they’re at home,” Darkwing said. “And unless a headline breaks about them being kidnapped, we have no way to reach them.” 

“Actually, they’d be in the toy store tonight,” Launchpad said, pulling up a picture of a video game console on his phone. “It’s the midnight release of the Gigashark X. It’s been superhyped up lately. Louie’s been trying to get Mr. McDee to buy him one, but Mr. McDee isn’t budging.” 

Darkwing checked the recent news on his phone, but there was nothing to indicate that Dan Rattigan and Michael Bill had been kidnapped. 

Since Negaduck was deliberately leaving evidence of his criminal activity behind, he probably wouldn’t care much about kidnapping the former actors in front of an audience either. 

If anything, the recording raised more questions than answers. 

“Alright, let’s get to that toy store,” Darkwing said. “And please try to resist fainting this time.”

“Sure thing, DW,” Launchpad agreed. 

After some debate, Darkwing and Launchpad decided to leave through the front entrance so they didn’t have to deal with the glass. Then the door burst open. 

“LEAF-ING SO SOON, THIEVES?” 

Darkwing and Launchpad instinctively put their hands up as Gizmoduck rolled into the lab, shining a spotlight on them as if they were a pair of criminals.

“Mistaken for a kidnapper by a guy who can’t even make a pun worthy of a Saturday morning cartoon,” Darkwing muttered. 

“Believe me, I’d love to be more creative with those,” Gizmoduck sighed. 

Launchpad waved. “Hi, Fen-” 

Gizmoduck broke into a coughing fit. 

“Uh, guy I don’t know whose name definitely doesn’t end with ‘ton’!” Launchpad corrected himself hastily. “Man, that was close.” 

“Launchpad!” Gizmoduck groaned. “You’re as bad as M’ah...Officer Cabrera. Hold on, why are you even here? And with the criminal too!” 

“I’m helping DW on the missing actor case,” Launchpad replied. “It’s been really cool so far. It’s just like being on the Darkwing Duck show!” 

“And if you watched the security footage, you’d know that the kidnapper’s costume is similar yet different than mine,” Darkwing added. 

“So did you use your super-cool telepathic abilities to find us?” Launchpad asked. 

“My suit can track heat signatures,” Gizmoduck said. “I don’t have telepathy.” 

While the chance meeting was nice and all, Darkwing knew they really needed to get back to the case. He clapped his hands, getting Launchpad and Gizmoduck’s attention. “Yeah, great to meet you. If you don’t mind, Launchpad and I will be heading to a toy store now,” he said, insistently tugging on Launchpad’s arm.

Unfortunately, Launchpad was too heavy for him to move. “I know! We should team up!” Launchpad exclaimed. His arm snaked around Darkwing’s shoulders, and he managed to get Gizmoduck tucked under his other arm for a group hug. 

Darkwing tilted his head slightly so Launchpad didn’t accidentally choke him, and Gizmoduck’s beak opened in surprise as he wobbled unsteadily on his wheel. 

“We’re gonna be like one of those buddy cop shows where they don’t mesh well at first but through a series of mutual understandings we come together and save the day!” Launchpad exclaimed, pulling their heads closer to his chest. “To the toy store!” 

“To the toy store!” Gizmoduck shouted. “Wait, why are we headed to the toy store?” 

“We’ll fill you in,” Darkwing said as he tried to wriggle out of Launchpad’s iron grip. 

* * *

Gizmoduck was terrible at the whole secret identity thing. Even if Launchpad hadn’t slipped up and called him ‘Fenton’, Darkwing would still know that Gizmoduck’s M’ma was on the police force.

Because his armor was too large to fit in the limo, Gizmoduck had gone back to his alter ego, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, for the time being. Fenton added Darkwing Duck to an alarmingly large list of people who already knew his secret identity. 

The Gizmoduck armor was currently inside a large duffel bag, stowed safely in the back. It seemed like an incredibly cumbersome way of keeping the costume nearby. 

Darkwing explained everything they knew about the case, and Launchpad interjected a few times to compare an event to something that happened on the Darkwing Duck series. 

“I think the components of the recording device were already prone to overheating,” Fenton said after Darkwing summarized the important points of Negaduck’s message. “Though under normal circumstances, it would be a few sparks here and there or a small flame that would easily be put out. This Negaduck guy likely added a small time bomb that would go off after a certain amount of time when the play button is pushed. Too bad it couldn’t be salvaged. I know someone who could’ve examined the parts for us.” 

Darkwing didn’t care much about the science behind the recording device though. It exploded. That was all he needed to know. 

“Fenton, you’re one of the best scientists I’ve ever met. Sure you could have done it too,” Launchpad said. 

Fenton blushed. “Uh...I don’t know about that. I get the basic concepts and stuff, but I don’t really have, say, advanced knowledge of electronics. That’s more of Gandra’s thing.” 

“He’s an official employee under Mr. McDee,” Launchpad said. “Scientist superhero is a pretty good job title.” 

Darkwing raised an eyebrow. “So he just sends you out whenever he needs some superhero-ing done?” 

Fenton shook his head. “I’ll admit I had a brief stunt as...well, a sell-out superhero under Mark Beaks for lack of a better term...but I could never work like that again. Deciding who doesn’t get saved or not saved based on an app? It was terrible. And I still barely know what I’m doing half the time. I repeat puns like three times in the course of a single confrontation. I still pie people in the face by accident. I’m not sure how half the contraptions on the armor work.” 

“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out,” Launchpad said. “Gyro and Mr. McDee and the kids and I think you’re amazing. You already have a strong moral code as a hero. You’ve got this.” 

Fenton smiled. “Thanks, Launchpad. Still, I’m glad you guys are helping me with this kidnapping. It’s been kinda tiring lately.” 

“We should do an interview together. You can promote me as Duckburg’s newest hero, and I can give you a few pointers in managing your fame,” Darkwing said. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fenton laughed. 

Teenagers and young adults lined the sidewalk leading up to the toy store, complaining loudly when the employee only let ten in at a time. It seemed like every teenager in Duckburg was here. So far, everything looked normal and there was no sign of a black-masked duck anywhere. 

“From what you told me, I just assumed Negaduck already kidnapped the former actors,” Fenton said as Launchpad parked behind a delivery truck. The hood ornament of the limo crunched against the back bumper. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case here.” 

“We might have time. If we can get to Dan Rattigan and Michael Bill now, we might be able to take them to a secure location and rescue the other two actors,” Darkwing said. 

“McDuck Manor would be our best safe zone,” Fenton suggested. 

“Launchpad can drive them there,” Darkwing said. “You and I will find Jack Russell and Tino Chickpea and apprehend Negaduck.” 

Launchpad grinned. “Alright! I get to drive two actors from my favorite show!” 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Fenton said. “Got any ideas on how we’re getting in though?” 

“Easy. Name brand recognition,” Darkwing said. 

Launchpad and Fenton stared at him blankly. Darkwing couldn’t be the only one in their group who was willing to take advantage of fame, right?

“Starting to see why all those posts trend about Gizmoduck on social media. You should really get a PR manager for that,” Darkwing suggested. “Just roll up as Gizmoduck. The employee will let you in cause you’re famous, and me and Launchpad too by association.” 

Fenton frowned. “I don’t like taking advantage of being well-known like this. And you’re a little too excited about fame by association.” 

Okay, maybe he also wanted to try negotiating a cut of the toy sales by using his connection to Gizmoduck. But hey, a guy had to get publicity somehow. 

* * *

“Hello there, citizen!” Gizmoduck called to the employee managing the door, who finished counting another group of ten and regarded Gizmoduck with half-lidded eyes. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” 

“I guess,” the employee yawned. “Get back in line. Like, way over there.” 

He pointed to the end of the street, where the line only increased in size. 

“Sir, this is an important matter,” Darkwing stated. “We have it on good evidence that a crime most foul will be committed here tonight.” 

“Technically, the evidence was destroyed,” Launchpad added. 

Darkwing put a finger to his beak to hush Launchpad. The employee didn’t need to know that. 

“A kidnapper has been targeting actors from Darkwing Duck. Two of your co-workers are on his list,” Gizmoduck said. “If you’ll let us through, my associate Launchpad will drive them to a secure location while Darkwing and I catch the kidnapper once he shows up.” 

The employee rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard plenty of stories tonight. People just don’t wanna wait in line, you know? Now get to the back and I might consider letting you in when it’s your turn.” 

Darkwing marched up to him, ready to protest that lives were at stake, but broke into a hacking cough instead. Thick clouds of red smoke flooded the air like evil incarnate in a gaseous form. Gizmoduck activated several fans on his suit, but it wasn’t effective against the dense smoky dread that had pierced its way into the atmosphere. 

Confusion and panic snaked their way through the crowd. Teens tried to run, only to collide into each other. Total strangers clung onto each other for dear life. Several people rushed out of the store to see what was going on, despite Gizmoduck trying to order them back inside. 

“I AM THE BLAZING INFERNO THAT RAVAGES YOUR CITY. I AM THE VENOMOUS SNAKE THAT LURKS IN YOUR BACKYARD. I AM NEGADUCK!” 

The proclamation was followed by harsh, gravelly laughter, which terrified his audience even more. The smoke made it impossible to pinpoint Negaduck’s location. 

“My heat sensors can’t detect him!” Gizmoduck coughed. “There’s too much interference!” 

Darkwing clenched his fists and dropped into a basic defensive position. 

“I was wondering when you’d show that face I despise so much,” the voice hissed. “I was about to go rob a few banks while I waited. Blow off steam.”

Darkwing tried not to twitch. He felt something press against his back and he jumped, only to realize that it was just Launchpad covering his blind spots.

“Face it. You’re nothing more than a fanboy in a costume. A hack. A fake. How pathetic. I’d get more of a challenge out of an eroded pebble!” 

“Shows what you know. You’ll never scare me!” Darkwing said, allowing his cape to flare out. His heart hammered and threatened to jump out of his chest at any given moment. Negaduck was just another bully, he told himself. Darkwing had dealt with plenty of those. “Do you know who I am? Let me tell you, I am the terror who flaps in the ni-”

Something heavy slammed into his back before he could finish, knocking him to the ground. Gizmoduck and Launchpad cried out in warning, but Darkwing could barely hear them over the massive cacophony. 

Darkwing’s back erupted into sheer agony. Something was putting massive pressure against his spine, pinning him in place. Fingers dug into his vertebrae, threatening to sever a fragile nerve. A hand clamped down on his neck and squeezed. Darkwing could only make choked, pathetic noises while an eerie cackle rang in his ears. 

Black spots danced in Darkwing’s vision. He couldn’t yell at Launchpad and Gizmoduck to run and find help. He couldn’t make out anything except a pair of furious, insane eyes. 

The harsh laugh formed a chilling soundtrack as the darkness closed around him. 

* * *

“Unhand us at once! Michael and I need to be at the store tonight! You’ll be hearing a call from my lawyer if you don’t let us go!” 

“My plants are on a very strict water schedule!” 

“I was taking a walk to cure my insomnia! What did I do?” 

“Is this some kind of joke to you?” 

“Would. All. Of you…SHUT IT! I CAN’T HEAR MYSELF THINK WITH ALL YOUR STUPID YAKKING!”

Darkwing’s neck throbbed. His back ached. His lacerated feet stung.

He took it as a sign that he wasn’t dead.

“DW! Where’s DW?”

_Launchpad._

“I’m right here!” Darkwing tried to say, but something that tasted an awful lot like spandex covered his beak, preventing him from reassuring Launchpad. 

“No pet names! Darkwing Duck doesn’t do pet names, nicknames, or any of that other junk!” 

Darkwing opened his eyes, surprised that the material covering his face wasn’t blinding him. 

Launchpad was bound to a high-backed chair, his wrists restrained by many coils of rope. Several rows of empty seats stretched out behind him. 

It was a studio audience setup, Darkwing realized. 

Four old men were strapped to the floor on a green screen. They whispered to each other in soft tones, shooting confused glances to Negaduck, who barked orders at them to shut up while he rolled a large camera into the center of the setup. 

They found the actors of the Fearsome Four, but not in the way Darkwing had hoped. He’d been thinking more along the lines of a daring rescue where he thoroughly defeated the villain and received countless requests for public appearances afterward. 

Gizmoduck wasn’t here. 

Darkwing knew Gizmoduck was either running damage control or going to McDuck Manor for help if Negaduck hadn’t gotten his slimy hands on him, but he seriously needed to hurry up. 

Negaduck pounded on a piece of sound equipment whose wheels were trapped on a piece of metal in the floor. After several minutes, he screeched so loudly that the walls shook and tore through the metal with a chainsaw. The metallic sound grated on everyone’s ears, but Negaduck didn’t listen to anyone’s pleas for mercy. 

With Negaduck distracted, Darkwing could escape, rescue Launchpad, evacuate the Fearsome Four, and save the day! Darkwing grinned, feeling the spandex crinkle against his cheeks. 

First things first, the mask that encompassed his entire head had to go. Darkwing grunted, but his hands refused to come up to his face. He could only twitch his fingers against his sides. His legs were bound too, so he couldn’t use his feet either. 

So Negaduck thought he was clever enough to restrain Darkwing Duck with a series of intricate knots, did he? Little did he know, Darkwing had some Junior Woodchuck merit badges under his belt! Tying and untying knots had been one of his specialties! 

Darkwing looked down, though the mask limited his range of motion. But he didn’t find a large rope coiled around his body. 

Instead, a gray suit covered him from his neck down. At first, Darkwing thought Negaduck had changed his clothes while he’d been unconscious and cringed at how creepy that sounded, then he felt his fingers brush against the fabric of his Darkwing Duck costume, much to his relief. 

Darkwing leaned back, taking a deep breath and tried to think of a new plan of escape. His head brushed against another piece of fabric, and he jerked forward in surprise. A red, high-collared cape covered his back. 

At least he thought it did. It was hard to tell with his limited head-turning capabilities.

The costume was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint where he’d seen it before. 

“Where are we anyway?” Launchpad asked. “I dunno, I thought I was at a toy store with DW and Gizmoduck.”

“As my biggest fan, I thought you’d appreciate seeing me in action,” Negaduck said, leaning against the metal gate that separated Launchpad from everyone else. “Had to knock you out like the hack and Feeble Four though. Can’t have you revealing my location before the big show.” 

He grinned, revealing a mouthful of sharp, yellow teeth. 

Launchpad shrugged. “Sorry, I think you confused me with someone else. I’ve never seen you before. Well, unless you count that security footage in the lab.” 

Negaduck laughed humorlessly. “That cheap camera didn’t capture my best side.” 

“What big show?” Michael shouted. “If you’ve tied us up here, the least you could do is explain why!”

Negaduck snarled in his direction, and Michael quickly hid his face. His entire body trembled, and only a brief touch from Dan managed to calm him down again. 

“Aw, Mikey,” Negaduck chuckled lowly. “You’re too impatient. I was just getting to that part. SO DON’T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I’M TALKING!” 

Negaduck’s fist collided with Michael’s head, knocking out the former TV villain instantly. Dan and Launchpad pleaded for Michael to wake up, Tino stuttered incoherently, and Jack averted his gaze and refused to speak, as if it would somehow shield him from Negaduck’s wrath. 

Darkwing threw himself forward, trying to scream Negaduck’s name to get his attention. He needed to draw his ire, get him to turn his wrath away from an innocent person, but the suit prevented him from moving more than an inch. 

Darkwing strained against the suit, but it was tightly pressed to his chest and limbs. He gasped for breath as the suit closed in around his body, constricting his movements even further. 

He’d never been claustrophobic before, but he was sure he’d be developing that fear soon enough. 

“Ah, I see our guest staris getting restless,” Negaduck drawled. “You’re all just dying to know what’s happening, aren’t you? My biggest fan, don’t you wanna know who our guest star is?” 

“I’m not sure I like this,” Launchpad admitted. 

Negaduck ignored him. “We’re on the air in one more minute. Those bumbling morons make it so easy to hijack the airwaves.” 

He sauntered in front of a camera, adjusting his ragged hat and cape. 

A green light flickered to life. 

“Attention, Duckburg! You’re bearing witness to the debut of Negaduck! And don’t even think about tuning out, because all your channels are filled with nothing but me! Not that it’s a huge competition. I’m sure you all prefer watching a grim and gritty villain than whatever passes for entertainment these days!” Negaduck laughed.

Darkwing didn’t know how Duckburg was reacting to this, but he doubted they were laughing along. 

“Years ago, a show was canceled prematurely. I was...invested in this program,” Negaduck ranted. “The idiot executives thought they could sweep it under the rug and pretend it never existed. But the joke’s on them. In just a few moments, everyone will be able to see the long-awaited season finale of Darkwing Duck!” 

“You left Michael half-dead for this?” Dan shrieked, ignoring Tino’s attempts to hush him. “A fanboy who can’t accept that a silly show ended. I can’t believe this.” 

“Believe it,” Negaduck growled. ”BECAUSE I DON’T RECALL TELLING YOU TO SPEAK!” 

Negaduck kicked Dan in the side, hurling furious diatribes about where he could stick his electronics. Dan whimpered in pain and curled into a ball to protect himself. Tino trembled violently, while Jack pursed his lips and avoided looking at Negaduck. 

Launchpad looked away, fiddling with his restraints. “So that’s why he’s got the masked evil twin and the bombs,” he said quietly. “I...I don’t wanna believe it either.” 

As Negaduck stalked towards Darkwing, something clicked in his mind. 

He knew this suit. It was in the last episode of Darkwing Duck before the series was canceled. 

Hadn’t he spent countless hours theorizing over TV Darkwing’s evil doppelganger? 

Negaduck knew the Fearsome Four actors. He was invested in the show. He knew Darkwing would investigate the kidnappings. 

And most importantly, Negaduck believed Launchpad was his biggest fan. 

Negaduck dug his hands into the fabric of the villain suit, and Darkwing shuddered as he felt sharp-tipped fingers press against his ribs. 

“You think a few very painful explosions can stop me?” Negaduck snarled. Darkwing resisted the urge to gag on his rancid breath. “Now, let’s see who you really are.” 

Darkwing had seen those blazing, madness-fueled eyes before. And just like last time, he was caught off-guard, aching, and helpless. 

The spandex mask came off with a sharp yank. Negaduck carelessly tore out several of Darkwing’s feathers along with it. 

“Jim Starling?” Darkwing asked, the name tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop it. 

For a moment, the only sound was Launchpad’s choked gasp. Darkwing was sure Launchpad had figured it out already. He just didn’t want it to be true. 

Negaduck’s hand went slack and Darkwing took several deep breaths, savoring the air he’d been deprived of. 

But it didn’t last long. 

“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” Negaduck roared, an animalistic howl escaping him. Darkwing’s vision blurred as his beak smashed against the ground. 

“YOU’RE TALKING TO NEGADUCK NOW! I’LL GROUND YOUR SKELETON INTO DUST AND BLOW IT UP WITH A MISSILE! AND THERE’LL BE FIRE! LOTS OF FIRE THAT WON’T LEAVE YOUR ASHES BEHIND!” 

Darkwing’s entire body was on fire. His muscles protested, his legs throbbed, and no matter how deeply he breathed, he couldn’t get enough air to travel to his lungs. 

But he had to get up and keep fighting. He couldn’t allow Jim...no, Negaduck... he had to think of them as different entities, to hurt four innocent people. 

Darkwing strained against the suit, finally freeing his arms and latching onto Negaduck’s ankles. Negaduck snarled, striking every part of Darkwing’s body with his feet, but Darkwing refused to let go. 

With his legs still trapped, Darkwing was relying heavily on his upper body strength. He endured Negaduck’s kicks for just a few seconds longer, then abruptly tugged on Negaduck’s ankles, knocking him to the ground. 

But his attack only fueled Negaduck’s murderous desires, and Negaduck freed his feet from Darkwing’s grasp within seconds. Darkwing’s head swam as Negaduck slammed him facefirst into a metallic strip. 

“DW!” Launchpad shouted, struggling against his bonds. “Jim, you gotta stop!” 

Negaduck glowered at Launchpad, his hand still wrapped around the back of Darkwing’s head. “The name is Negaduck!” he screamed, sharply yanking Darkwing’s head back. Darkwing made a pathetic noise as his neck ached in protest. 

“You’re still Jim Starling though,” Launchpad said calmly. He was the only person in the room who wasn’t intimidated by Negaduck’s violent inclinations. 

The crushing pressure around Darkwing’s head vanished, and he hit the ground facefirst again, but not by Negaduck’s doing. Compared to everything else he endured, it felt like he’d fallen onto a pillow. 

“You’re my fan,” Negaduck growled. “Support me.” 

But Launchpad shook his head. “Not this. Never like this.”

Negaduck took a step back, the madness in his eyes being replaced by...was that grief? 

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen talking.

In a swirl of his tattered black cape, Negaduck swept out of the room, his hasty footsteps echoing off the walls. 

It took several tries and shouted instructions from Darkwing, but Launchpad finally untied the restraints binding him to the chair. He rushed over to Darkwing, stepping behind him and lifting the high-collared red cape out of the way. 

Moments later, Darkwing heard something being unzipped as he pulled his legs free of the trap he’d been forced to wear. 

“The Darkwing Duck trivia said that Jim-” Launchpad paused, glancing to the door in worry. “-well, apparently he spent six hours stuck in the doppelganger costume cause the zipper wouldn’t work and he wouldn’t let anyone cut him free.” 

“Your production trivia knowledge comes in handy,” Darkwing said, smiling at Launchpad despite his aching beak. “Come on, let’s get these actors free.” 

Dan and Tino’s restraints came undone in a simple tug, Jack’s took a bit more effort, and Launchpad had to carefully slide Michael out while Darkwing undid the complicated knot. 

“That was Jim?” Jack asked in a small voice. His long ears hung limply as he bowed his head. “You’re sure?” 

Those were the first words he’d spoken all night.

“I’m afraid so,” Darkwing admitted. “Are you alright? I mean, I know you were kidnapped and taken here against your will...sorry, Mr. Russell. It was a dumb question.” 

“I’ve seen better. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on my friends,” Jack promised. “Jim needs to be stopped.” 

“You’ll be fine?” Darkwing asked. 

He glanced at Michael, who was still out cold. 

Jack nodded. “Don’t worry about us. Best go before Jim gets away.” 

* * *

Darkwing and Launchpad followed the trail of destruction. Overturned desks, shattered pictures, and shredded paper littered the hallway. 

Negaduck was standing in front of a large mirror that covered the far wall of the room. 

It was supposed to be a dance studio, but the floor was in need of a good polish, the ballet shoes were worn and frayed, and the mirror was cracked and distorted their reflections. 

“That’s me in there,” Negaduck murmured, reaching up to touch Darkwing’s reflection. He hunched over the bar, breathing slowly. “There I am. Adored, respected, beloved by fans.”

His voice was no longer Negaduck’s husky growl, but it wasn’t the familiar pitch of Darkwing Duck either. 

No heroic bite, no confidence, no cockiness. 

“Jim, we can help you,” Launchpad said quietly.

Darkwing braced himself in front of Launchpad, ready to lash out if Negaduck’s short fuse went off. 

Negaduck didn’t acknowledge them. 

“But it’s not real, is it? Just some stupid fantasy of a has-been who’s not even fit for a cameo. That’s what being a hero gets you. Insults and scoldings and everyone wondering why you couldn’t have a productive life even though you get injured every single day of your washed up career just to entertain them.” 

“Jim, please stop,” Darkwing whispered.

Negaduck screeched, tearing out the bar and smashing it against Darkwing’s reflection. 

“WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST LET ME BELIEVE I HAD A CHANCE?”

Jagged mirror shards splintered everywhere, leaving an empty, tattered wall behind. Negaduck clawed at the wall, shredded wallpaper falling to the ground.

This was the man he once looked up to. 

This was the man who shaped his worldview.

This was the man who gave inspired him, enabled him to fight back, and helped him through hard times. 

And now he was gone, though some part of Darkwing prayed that wasn’t the case. 

The next few minutes passed by in a blur. Darkwing couldn’t watch Gizmoduck restrain Negaduck and walk him into an armored vehicle. He couldn’t watch the paramedics aid the former actors. He couldn’t watch Scrooge McDuck order several skilled technicians to cut the hijacked airwaves and restore the normal programming. 

“You need medical attention too, DW,” Launchpad said. 

Launchpad was right, but Darkwing buried his head into the taller duck’s chest instead. 

Maybe it was selfish, but he desperately needed this. 

* * *

Drake’s hospital room had been dubbed ‘The Superhero Suite’. Launchpad had explained they treated any injuries Fenton received as Gizmoduck here. And doctor-patient confidentiality extended to secret identities as well. 

Drake had several finger-shaped bruises around his neck where Negaduck had tried to strangle him. Drake had almost forgotten what it felt like to breathe normally. And he was lucky to not have an infection on his feet from the broken glass. 

“This is so weird,” Fenton said. “I’ve never seen you without your mask before!” 

“Just don’t go calling me Drake Mallard when I’m in costume,” Drake warned. “Cause the identity thing is something you need to work on.” 

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, I get the same lecture from all the other critical people in my life. Guess people are a little more observant than they portray them in the superhero shows!” 

Drake fingered his bedsheets, trying to think about anything but a certain show. “Sure they are.”

“Ah, sorry. I forgot. I’m just gonna change the subject before I strike a sore spot, okay? I’ve got good news. Launchpad’s smoothed everything over with Mr. McDuck. He’s less angry about the blown up limo now. And I’m pretty sure the kids are throwing an ‘I’m so happy you’re not dead’ party for Launchpad.” 

“When did the limo blow up?” Drake asked. He didn’t remember that part. 

“Launchpad parked too close to the delivery truck where Negaduck was keeping his kidnapped victims,” Fenton replied. “He couldn’t get the doors open so he could throw you, Launchpad, and the two actors-turned-shopkeepers in. I guess blowing up the limo was the logical thing for him. Or he just liked explosions. Maybe both.” 

“And the actors? How are they?”

“Recovering on a floor below us,” Fenton said. “Michael needs to be observed for a while, but he’ll pull through. So will Dan. They’ll be running their shop in no time. Jack said he’d be helping Tino with some community gardening. He says nature has a calming influence on Tino.”

Drake sighed in relief, just happy that the actors would be alright. 

Fenton twisted his tie, scuffing the floor with his feet and avoiding eye contact. “Drake, I stopped by for another reason. I just wanted to...say...um, I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. From the bottom of my heart sorry. Really badly-” 

“Fenton.” 

At the sound of his name, Fenton looked up. 

“Don’t go putting this on the record, but I have no idea what I’m doing either. Nobody wrote a Superhero-ing for Dummies manual, you know,” Drake said. 

“You wanna learn together?” Fenton asked, finally smiling back. “Launchpad said you’ve got all sorts of neat moves on you. If you teach me a thing or two, I can get you a few gadgets. It’ll protect you better in the field.” 

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera. I humbly accept your offer,” Drake bowed dramatically, much to Fenton’s laughter. 

“My two superhero buddies are bonding!” an excited voice said from the doorway. “It’s everything I dreamed and more!” 

Drake coughed. Launchpad’s childlike honesty was nice at times, but it could be downright awkward too. 

“Nice to see you, Launchpad,” Fenton said, patting the chair next to him. “Things going good at the Manor?” 

Launchpad happily accepted the invitation. “Yup! Louie was upset that he missed a late night episode of Ottoman Empire. The whole taking over your TV thing, you know. Dewey and Webby clung to my legs for a whole four hours. That’s gotta be some kind of record. Huey and Della were out doing some Junior Woodchuck mother-son camping trip, so they missed out. They’ll find out soon enough, I guess. Mr. McDee says Negaduck was taken to jail and they’re gonna be setting a trial date in a few months.” 

“Negaduck won’t be in jail forever,” Fenton said. “Probably just long enough to recuperate, but he’ll be causing trouble on the streets.” 

At the mention of Negaduck, the jovial atmosphere sobered. 

Drake plucked at his bedsheets. He wanted to believe Jim Starling and Negaduck were two separate people, but reality said otherwise. He couldn’t live like Negaduck, who desperately tried to relive the glory days of his acting career. 

But being a hero wasn’t something a person could make-believe. 

Jim must’ve believed in the ideals and dreams of Darkwing Duck once. He’d inspired Drake and Launchpad after all. How many other children saw him on television and adopted Darkwing Duck’s beliefs? 

“I think we should help Jim,” Launchpad said. 

“What? He tried to kill you guys a lot!” Fenton protested. “He’s selfish, egotistical, and doesn’t care who he hurts. Why would you wanna help someone like that?” 

Fenton hadn’t grown up with Darkwing Duck the way Drake and Launchpad had. And frankly, Drake thought the idea was crazy too. 

But nobody, not even Jim Starling, Negaduck, or whatever he called himself deserved to rot in their own madness. 

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Drake replied. 

“For Jim,” Launchpad said. 

“For Jim,” Drake echoed, placing his hand over Launchpad’s. 

They looked expectantly at Fenton, who sighed in resignation. 

“I have my doubts, but you’re right. Heroes save everyone, whether they deserve it or not. Let’s do this for Jim,” Fenton said. He squeezed Launchpad’s and Drake’s hands. 

Jim Starling once showed Drake how to get back up and stand on his own two feet. He showed Drake how heroes suffered setback after setback, but it didn’t stop them from saving the day. 

It was time to return the favor. 


End file.
